


Mismatch

by Yami_no_Tempest



Category: Xanje
Genre: All of the gayness, Basketball, High School AU, I'm probably gonna have to change the rating to mature later on, Multi, Romance, Websites as schools, Whamzilla, all of the pets are high school students, all of the users are teachers, and did I mention gayness?, there are two Nicks here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 19:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5551805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yami_no_Tempest/pseuds/Yami_no_Tempest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're tall," she pointed out. She had to crane her neck to look him in the eye.</p><p>"Height's not everything," Asmoday managed. He shot the ball and missed.</p><p>High school AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mismatch

**Author's Note:**

> "Nick" refers to Nickle.  
> "The vice principal" refers to Nick the site developer.
> 
> Asmoday is Asmoday. (316526)  
> Miracle is Miracle. (1106838)  
> Gwyn is Gwyn. (934204)  
> Nick is Nickle. (1077303)

He was the tallest person in the gym, and the coaches were already eyeing him expectantly as though trying to deduce — before try-outs had even begun — if his size was worth anything. Asmoday sincerely doubted it; he'd never played a game of basketball in his life, and his knowledge of the sport came from the online videos he'd binge-watched the week before and the plays that Nick had made him commit to memory. If it were up to him, he wouldn't have showed up at all, but Nick had been adamant: "it'll be fun; we can be teammates; you're really tall, bro, and you'd make a good forward."

Nick was already in the gym when Asmoday got there, shooting free throws in the corner and pausing every so often to watch the upperclassmen. The blonde grinned when he noticed his friend and waved him over. Nick's gym clothes were big on him, and among the other students trying out, he was one of the smallest. His hair had grown over the summer and reached past his shoulders; Asmoday was surprised he hadn't cut it for basketball.

"I thought you weren't gonna show, man," Nick said when Asmoday was whithin earshot. He had pulled his dirty-blonde hair into a ponytail, and Asmoday would have mistaken him for a girl if he didn't know him.

"Forgot where the gym was," Asmoday replied, shrugging. 

"Whatever," Nick snorted. He passed the ball to Asmoday. "Hurry up and shoot. One of the coaches is watching."

Nick had been talking almost nonstop about the coaches for weeks. Asmoday didn't know much about either, but Nick had taken to standing outside their classrooms in gym shorts and a jersey in between classes. It was a wonder he hadn't been reported to the principal for stalking or sexual harassment yet.

Asmoday passed the ball back.

"You go ahead," he said. "I'm not too worried about it."

Pass.

"He's watching you, not me."

Pass.

"I'm no good at basketball."

Pass.

Pass.

Pass.

Nick sighed and went in for a layup with his left hand. It hit the backboard, then bounced on the rim before going in. His sneakers squeaked on the ground when he landed.

"Has Xanje always had co-ed teams?" Asmoday asked suddenly, noticing for the first time a freckled, redheaded girl running suicides off to the side.

"As long as I can remember," Nick replied. "That's Gwyn, I think. I have geometry with her. She's pretty cool."

"You think she'll make the team?"

"I don't know. She seems too polite for that."

Before Asmoday could say anything else, one of the coaches blew their whistles. Nick took one last shot at the basket, missed, then started towards the center of the gym where the other students were gathering.

"Juniors, seniors, you know the drill." It was the JV coach who had blown the whistle and who was addressing the crowd now. "Everyone else, you're coming to the other gym with me. We'll make adjustments later if we have to, but for now, this is how we're splitting you up. David, that better not be complaining I hear."

Half the gym followed the coach down the hall to the second gym, and Asmoday was able to get a better look at his competition. There were himself and Nick, of course, and the Gwyn girl from earlier. A brown-haired boy — a transfer student, Asmoday guessed, if his black-and-navy-blue jersey was anything to go by — walked just in front of the coach, like he was in a rush to get to the gym and prove himself; to the coach's right was a small, skinny boy with orange-and-black striped sleeves over his gym shirt. 

Behind the skinny boy, a flash of gold caught Asmoday's attention. Sandwiched between two taller kids was a blonde girl so short that Asmoday had to wonder if she was at the right school. She couldn't have been more than four feet tall, and she had hair down to her knees. She held a gym bag in one hand that dragged on the ground behind her. Asmoday frowned.

"Do you know who that is, Nick?" he asked, pointing her out.

"Not a clue, man."

"Isn't she kind of short to be playing basketball?"

"Height's not everything," Nick shot back, but he looked doubtful. "Now stop asking questions. You're not part of a team yet; just worry about yourself."


End file.
